I remember this tale, from a time of brutality; from whence I would have gladly murdered a soul. For the fragile seek to transcend their pain, but ever are they poisoned by it.

This man I remember had called himself ‘Mighty’ and I watched from the stands as he delivered his speech. “You are the fools!” he cried to the audience, “for even as you mock me, I am whole. Through tragedies I've suffered, through pain I persevered. I am a greater man and your words may never hurt me.”

Fool, is what I thought, for he seemed to take pride in this display. The crowd cheered him on, patting him on the back, but to me he lacked conviction. For I saw through the sham in his boast and I knew that his demons would haunt him again. This time a little earlier than needed.

“Yes my friends, I am a damaged man. I have been broken before and my spirit shattered,” he continued to ramble, as I drew close to him. “You too can be better, you too can overcome this pain. Together we can achieve!”

“Lies,” I spat, from the front of the crowd. “You might pretend that you are better; baying your worthless pain to the crowd. Some of them might even spare you a coin, but once you walk away from that, what are you?”

“Well, I am a bet-”

“You are nothing!” I hissed, interrupting him. My anger had gotten the better of me and I sought only to knock him down. “I know you like I know myself and you are the same individual spouting self-deceiving lies.”

He spluttered and tried to speak but I would not yield him the chance. “Remember what you really are, because what you show these people is but a glorified figment. Let’s be realistic, ‘friend’. After you leave here, after the adoring praise of the crowd has vanished. Again you’ll crawl back to your sorry little hole and wallow, you’ll wallow, in the depths of the insecurities that choke you from the shadows.”

“What then I wonder?” I asked with a mocking expression as I leaned toward him. “Will you finally accept that you are a worthless nothing? Or will you come out here again tomorrow and spew some nonsense about how you are ‘high and mighty’.”

“Look upon me my friends,” I said, mimicking his actions and tone. “For I am the worthless dreg of society, kicked around and now partially recovered. Yes, I have enough of my sanity to know that my horrid prattle about overcoming difficulties is enough to win your votes. You are stupid and so am I, for you will all lap this up like a pack of brainless dogs!”

The crowd stood stunned, most angry. They would have liked to have beaten me; they would have liked to have stoned me. Yet their limbs remained immobilized by the weight of truth itself.

Lie to yourself that you might overcome. Lie to yourself as much as you wish. But make that lie public, in a display of self-deluding ‘valor’ and it becomes so easy to send you back into the hole…

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Author's Comment:

Arrr,

What can I say, there were times when I was a very evil man. In any case, the crux of this piece is rather simple.

You can tell yourself you've gotten over something; but it's pretty obvious to those who see you constantly mentioning the same things that you really haven't gotten over it at all. Now, I'm all for using writing as a way of expressin' your past and your pain. It's normal! However if you're constantly writing about the same issues, but continue to write that you've gotten better or have forgotten them. Weeeeelll I hate t' break it to ya, but you haven't gotten over them at all.

Indeed, it's like going out with someone and constantly talking about your ex. That kind of thing proves that they're still in your mind and if you keep beating the same old horse then it's rather easy for someone to just step in and rip you apart.

Experienced this myself from a first-person perspective. Honestly I wish someone had pointed out to me that I wasn't 'healed', as in your piece, as I think that would have been better than discovering it for myself by backsliding.

This poem may be true, but I felt disbelief and sadness from it. I can't believe that some people would bring down others just because they may be putting up a facade of being strong and mighty, but it happens. Someone may be telling the truth, but they show it so sharply. Anyway, great poem. I really liked how it was written!

You're welcome! Ah, I'm sorry. I thought it was a poem, but I should've saw how it was categorized as "prose". >_<I agree with you. I've done some things that I regret, too. I can't take them back, but I can certainly learn to not repeat those mistakes. People aren't perfect after all, right? We can learn from mistakes and know what's right and wrong as we live life.